


Divided

by Coykoi89



Series: Inktober 2017 [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Because ink is for more than drawing, Blood and Violence, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Day 2, Domestic Violence, Gen, Inktober, Mental Health Issues, Murder Family, Murder-Suicide, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other, and written works are art, not too graphic but more descriptive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 10:07:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12252192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coykoi89/pseuds/Coykoi89
Summary: Inktober:  Day 2 - Divided





	Divided

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my submission for the Inktober challenge. I have to say, it's not real graphic but this does touch on some hard issues such as child abuse, alcoholism, suicide, murder, and mental disorders. If you or someone you know is suicidal, please, don't hesitate to call someone. As someone who struggles with depression and refuses to see a doctor for it, I'm telling you seek help. You're not alone. It took me 16 years to finally realize I'm not alone and I still struggle with it. As someone who's lost and nearly lost loved ones to suicide and as someone who tried once, please seek help. You are never alone. Also, just because there are no physical symptoms doesn't mean something isn't wrong. The brain is an organ just like any other organ and it can get sick too. You don't have to go through it alone no matter what you're facing. No, this piece wasn't to raise awareness but I can't help giving those in need of love a little shout out where I can.

He couldn't remember where the body came from nor why it wasn't breathing anymore.  Jared couldn't remember the past week at all but he knew one thing for certain:  the body in his trunk was fresh.  Blood had seeped out of the slit throat and soaked the entire floor board.  He quickly slammed the lid to his trunk and stood in shock at what he just witnessed.  Jared couldn't move; he couldn't feel his legs at all.  "What has Law done _now_?" he hissed to himself.  Running back upstairs to his apartment, he locked and bolted the door.  Slamming himself down on his white couch, he noticed a tiny spot of blood on the pillow that hadn't been there previously.  He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.  "If I could get a hold of Laurence, I would strangle him myself.  He's about to fuck me over, that bastard.  Why?  I don't understand..."

After a few minutes of processing the gravity of the situation, the tired middle aged man stood up and poured him a glass of whisky on the rocks and scrubbed the blood out of the pillow with a touch of peroxide.  As he scrubbed with an abrasive sponge, he contemplated on how long he had known his friend, Laurence.  Thirty-maybe thirty-three years?  Jared had met him the day after his father had put him in the hospital from one of his drunken episodes.  It just so happened that Laurence was staying in the hospital also.  After a few hours and a long conversation about comic books and superheroes, they were best friends.  Whenever his father came home blitzed out of his mind and became enraged over whatever triggered his wrath, Jared would run out of the house and hide until Laurence found him and brought some kind of comfort.  "You could end this, ya know," Laurence told him one day after seeing the bruises on his friend's jaw and neck.  "It's not that hard.  Just wait until your old man's asleep and give it to him."

"You mean _kill_ him?!  I can't kill him!!  He's my dad...  What are you thinking, Law?!" Jared cried.  That had been his nickname for Laurence, Law.

"Why not?  He's mean to you.  He hurts you.  He's not a real dad.  Just sneak into the kitchen when he passes out and grab the biggest knife ya have and stab him.  You'll go to a new family and maybe they'll be good to ya."

"Or I'll go to jail!"

"I'll do it."  The boy spoke casually as if he offered to jump in the lake first instead of committing an act of murder.  "I'll take the blame and go to jail.  Why do ya think I was in the hospital to begin with?  My dad isn't so nice either.  That's why I come out here with you"

"I don't want you to go to jail for me.  I could never ask that of anyone, especially not my only friend."  Jared curled up on a log and cried into his knees.  That night, he slept hard and straight through his alarm for school.  He saw the clock and shot out of bed in a panic knowing, if his dad found out, he might end up back in the hospital depending on how drunk he was.  He didn't always violently beat Jared.  Only when he was drinking heavily until he lost motor function and cognitive thought.  Jared peaked outside to see his father's car still parked in the driveway.  "Oh no," eleven-year-old Jared whimpered as he braced himself for another punishment that would undoubtedly result in another hospital visit.  He tiptoed out of his room and instantly saw a trail of blood leading from his father's bedroom door to the bathroom.  He froze as his insides turned to ice.  He couldn't move.  He scarcely breathed as his eyes followed the maroon stains.  It was an act of pure will for the boy to shuffle to his father's door across the hall yet he somehow managed to find the door knob.  Almost as if it weren't his hand but an offending creature taking control, he shoved the door open and peered inside.

A scream unlike any Jared had ever made before came out of him as if it were ripped from the depths of his bowls on finding the bloody remains of his alcoholic father.  The body still had a look of terror solidified on its face.  The boy fell to his knees and cried.  He sat there for a moment sobbing until the realization hit that this man would never lay a hand on him again crept in from the recesses of his subconscious.  A bit calmer, yet still mortified, Jared moved a little closer to see what actually happened to his father.  A large carving knife protruded from his chest with several stab wounds and lacerations covering the torso.  Jared nearly vomited until he was distracted with something else.  Lying next to the man's head on a pillow set a square piece of paper covered in childlike scrawl.  After a deep inhale that made him gag as it mostly consisted of iron and excrement, Jared read the letter to himself:

 

_Jared,_

_I told you I would take care of you.  I will take the blame with this note telling what I did._  
_I promise I won't run or hid from the cops when they come.  Please,_  
_just live the rest of your life as happy as you can.  You're free now.  I'm sorry_  
_for such a loss, kinda.  I just couldn't stand to watch him hurt you anymore.  You're_  
_my best friend and I care about you alot._

_\- Law_

Jared dried his eyes after reading the note but tears kept coming.  After another minute of contemplation, he decided to dispose of the knife still sheathed in his father's corpse and burn the confession note.  The knife was tossed into the stream that ran behind Jared's house and he didn't waste time scattering the ashes of the note.  He would protect his only friend at any cost.  Soon, he heard sirens in his driveway and quickly resumed his place in his father's bedroom floor to continue bawling as if he never moved.

That had been so long ago.  The police marked him as the prime suspect until a lack of incriminating evidence ruled him out.  The judge did mandate for him to undergo intense psychological evaluation on making a correlation between the dates of his injuries and his father's bar tab.  He was sent to a psych ward, or mental health facility to be politically correct, where he took medication and had sessions with a licensed psychologist twice a week.  For nearly three years, Jared woke up, took some pills, ate a bland breakfast, watched the blank walls of his cell, took another round of medicine, ate a forgettable lunch, interacted with others on his level, occasionally either beat up another patient in a fight or someone beat him up, then another average meal, a quick but cold shower and more pills.  Last came sleep if it ever came.  Three years of therapy was mandated or until his psychiatrist deemed him capable of assimilating with the average society.  That was until... until Laurence came to visit one day.

Jared would never know _how_ his best friend made it past security but he did, and he stabbed that condescending, snarky, pompous psychiatrist with her own letter opener.  He jammed it into her neck over and over until she choked on her own blood.  "If you won't live a happy, normal life on your own, then we can live one together.  Come on.  I'm getting ya outta here somehow.  Follow me and act like I belong here," Laurence instructed.  He didn't even give the stunned Jared time to react to the horrific sight before leading him down a busy corridor.  It was filled with too many bodies and faces for any one person to be noticed even if they were soaked in blood.  This provided cover for Laurence to swipe a clearance badge and leave out the back door, into the parking lot, and on they ran.  They ran as fast as they could and didn't stop until their legs gave out leaving them with no choice but to rest.

"Law..." Jared wheezed.  "Law-you... you killed... that woman..."  He couldn't even bring himself to ask.

"Yeah..." Laurence huffed.  "Yeah... why?..."

"That's... what I... want to know.  Why??"

"Because, Jared, she was mean to you.  She was keeping you there for no reason and causing you to slowly go insane.  You should have been released long before now and with a nice family watchin' TV, riding bikes with me, or fishin'.  You can't tell me ya don't miss all of that."  It was true.  Though his dad had been cruel at times, when he was home alone Jared did a lot of what he wanted so long as he was in bed before his dad came back.  They collapsed in the grass for a while to catch their breath and proceeded to make their way somewhere, _anywhere_ else.

Eventually, Jared earned enough money for a little studio apartment that was barely enough to house them both.  Laurence couldn't take a job since he was on the run from the police.  They often laughed at the irony of his nickname because of this, but they never caught either of the boys.  Soon, Jared had enough money to upgrade to a bigger apartment in a better part of the neighborhood they decided to plant roots in and he went for a bigger job.  All the while, Laurence never left his side.  They were like brothers and lived rather reclusive lives in fear of one day being caught, therefore, all they really had was each other.  That was fine though.  Jared didn't need anyone else and neither did Laurence.  That was until Jared's first, and first failed, relationship.

Jared went on a downhill spiral emotionally after putting himself in the dating scene.  He couldn't seem to keep a steady relationship going no matter how sweet or caring he was to his partners.  Laurence didn't usually approve of the women he brought home either but they never seemed to pay any mind to what he had to say.  As a matter of fact, almost all the women completely disregarded Laurence no matter how much input he had in their conversations.  It was as if his friend had been invisible.  This progressed until one day, Jared eventually started blanking out like he did sometimes in the mental asylum and he would never hear from his lovers again.  "What's wrong with me, Law?" he asked in frustration sitting on their brand new white couch having a drink.  "I don't understand.  I was so sure I would have a beautiful family by now!  Why can't I find a suitable woman who will stick around?"  He took a huge gulp of whisky and poured a little more in his cup.

"I don't know.  You're pretty great to me.  Maybe you just haven't found her yet, man.  These things take time sometimes, ya know.  Don't worry.  You'll know when the right one comes along," Laurence replied in that factly manner of his.  "Or, maybe you're trying to kid yourself into believin' you're the marrying type.  Some men are meant for their professions instead of the domestic life.  Have ya thought about that?"  Jared honestly hadn't put much stock into it.  He liked women well enough, but maybe his buddy was on to something.  So, he shifted from dates and charm to hookups and raunchy one night stands to see if maybe he just wanted the pleasurable aspects of having a woman without the commitment.  This seemed to work rather well for him with his busy office schedule.  Before long, he started having black-out episodes that lasted for more than a few hours.  Then-

_KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!!_ Came the pounding on the door.  "Police!  Open up!" followed a stern voice.

Jared's hands were shaking as he reached for the handle.  He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and unlocked the door.  "Y-Yes, officer?  How may I help you?" he asked with all the reserve he could muster.

"Hi, we're here to ask a couple of questions about a missing woman in the area.  My sources tell me she was last seen at a bar with you, and my partner and I were wondering if you had any information regarding her whereabouts."

"Um, I can't say I know where she is.  Honestly, I barely remember last week, much less some chick I met at the bar."

"Boy, I think we've all been there!  Haha!  But, if it's all the same, I would like to ask my questions anyway.  May we enter?"  Jared gave a nervous chuckle and stepped aside to welcome the officers into his apartment.  The officers interrogated him for about an hour asking the usual questions such as the time left, his alibi between certain hours, and the last thing he remembered before parting ways with the alleged victim.  After a daunting conversation, the officers thanked Jared and stood to leave.  "I appreciate your time.  You're not quite a suspect but I wouldn't advise leaving the city until we have one.  We'll be in touch.  Have a nice day, sir."

The two policeman stepped back out into the hallway but the other one turned back and threw out the most random question of the whole conversation.  "Hey, do you by chance live alone?  You don't have a room mate, do you?" he questioned half curious.

Jared's heart almost stopped as he breathed, "No...  Why?"

"It's a standard question we forgot to ask.  I guess that makes sense seeing as how you only have one bed.  Be glad you live alone though.  Room mates are a pain in the ass unless they're paying their share and helping out.  I had this one room mate back in college- man!  He was a real dick.  He didn't work for months on end and I had to keep him afloat with bills _and_ he was lazy to boot!"

"Yeah, room mates even if they're only temporary can be difficult," the first officer agreed.  "I had one this one time who ate _everything_ in the cabinets and never did any dishes, but he did work and pay bills so I can't say too much.  Anyway, have a nice day."  Jared shut the door and let out a heavy sigh of relief.  That had been so intense with a body just inside his trunk!  He flopped back down on the couch and thought about how grateful he was to have a room mate like Laurence, even if he got himself into really bad situations at times.  Looking around the room with pride that the house always stayed clean and tidy, Jared was a little pleased that he didn't have to... pay... anything extra...  Nothing.  No extra food or toiletries, not extra clothes.  Despite his friend not having a job, Jared realized he didn't have to pay anything above his normal means.  There was never any extra mess left over from cooking nor when Jared ate at home and he _did_ offer to sleep on the couch since there was only room for one bed in the apartment...  It was almost as if he didn't actually have a room mate.

"Where the hell _is_ Laurence anyway?  He never stays away long."  He spent the next few hours lost in catatonic thought on the past years with his best pal and started to realize that bad things only happened when his mind went blank and Laurence showed up.  Everything from his father to the body in the back of his car was all thanks to his best friend.  Yeah, Law meant well and only wanted what was best for Jared... or so he always believed that to be the case.  Night soon came and Jared still had no clue as to what means he should dispose of the carcass in his vehicle.  That was something Laurence never took care of.  He never cleaned up _those_ messes.  "Well, whatever.  We can figure it out when he comes home." Jared told himself as he laid down for bed.  The next day, Laurence hadn't shown up at all and the body remained in the car.  This only gave Jared more time to reflect on the simplicity of their friendship and he began to question his own sanity.  Damn that officer for planting such ridiculous ideas in poor Jared's already boggled mind!  Now, here he was torn between what he thought was reality and what could possibly be just a mere illusion.  No!  That was absurd!  Laurence hadn't always been around.  They met in the hospital for goodness sake.

The more time passed with no sign of Laurence the more Jared's mental state began to digress.  Before long he was stark raving mad suddenly blaming his only friend for all the transgressions in his life.  He ranted and paced as he argued with himself on what was real and what was all in his head while generously cursing those two policeman.  Suddenly, the front door swung open and in came Laurence.  "Honey, I'm home!" he teased as he set a packed cooler down in the kitchen.  "What up, bro?  Holy shit!  What happened to _you_?"

" _You_ happened to me, Law!  Why, man?!  There's-!  There's an extra something in the back of my trunk," Jared growled low trying to simmer down his anger.

"Oh shit!  Yeah, we'll take care of it tonight.  Sorry I've been gone for a couple of days but I thought ya might enjoy having some fish for a couple of dinners.  I thought it would be somethin' different."

"No, Law!  This has to stop!"

"I know, Jared.  I'm sorry.  It's just... I caught her trying to steal your stuff, man.  I mean your heavy meds, dude.  I know how much ya need those and how expensive they are.  I didn't mean to kill her-"

"Liar!  You slit her fuckin' throat, Law!"

"Shh!  Keep your voice down!  Okay, so I caught her doing somethin' naughty and I killed her.  It's not the first whore I killed..."

"This is never going to stop...  It's never going to end, is it?  You're just going to keep justifying your actions.  It's never gonna end-never going to end, _never_."  Laurence looked up in surprise at Jared's unusual speech patterns.  His eyes shifted quickly to the open medicine cabinet to find nearly a week's worth of anti-psychotic medicines were still in the bottle.

"Jared, dude, you're not taking your pills again.  Here, I'll get them set out for you."  As he turned to grab the various bottles, he didn't notice Jared moving closer.  Immediately after gathering the pills, Laurence turned and rammed himself straight and deep into the carving knife Jared had pulled from the chopping block.  Blood splattered onto his face as Laurence coughed up a clot.  "Why... Jay?  I... fuck..." were his last words as he hit the floor.  Calmly, mostly from shock at what he had just done, Jared picked out his most expensive tie, knotted it, and placed a chair under the ceiling fan.  He then tied the neck of the tie around a blade of the fan and kicked the chair out from under him.  As the lights went out for one final time, Jared saw his life with his one and only friend flash before him and then he saw the smiling face of his mother.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my twisted little piece. Sorry it was a little long. No, I don't feel that people with mental disorders are bad people. I feel that bad people are bad people and good people are good people and a disorder doesn't define that. I more or less hate the romanticizing of disorders and addictions. They're not fun or beautiful. They have the potential to destroy lives, mainly the person being afflicted with the burden of living with them. But anyway, not trying to rant but more or less explain. As always, comments are welcome and thank you readers!


End file.
